


Mother

by microgiraffe



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Red & Green & Blue & Yellow | Pokemon Red Green Blue Yellow Versions
Genre: She needed a name, Sort of a character study, Time Skips, but her name is delia, delia calls oak tf out, focuses on blue more than anything, i use delia for red's mom's name, just so you know, she's still reds mom, shes not the same as delia ketchum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 23:52:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16753858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/microgiraffe/pseuds/microgiraffe
Summary: "He really is a sweetheart."Delia's thoughts on her son's new friend, as well as tea-time between her and Samuel Oak.





	Mother

**Author's Note:**

> As I put off essentially rewriting the entire second part of Twenty Years Later, i wrote this. No one really talks about Red's mom much, and i Will change that.
> 
> Enjoy until Twenty Years Later comes back (i swear, i am working on it, i'm just garbage.)

“You know, I think they’re really getting along.” Delia smiled as she heard Blue’s loud shout of _something_ , she couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but it sounded like he was upset at something. “…well.”

Another shout and Blue was suddenly running down the stairs, nearly tripping over his own feet. “Sorry!” He paused, looking between the two adults. “Uh, Red told me to get him something to drink. Because he’s winning at Mario Kart.”

“Oh, is that what all the noise is?” She giggled as Blue’s face flushed bright red. “The cups are in the cabinet to the right of the fridge. There’s a stool in the pantry if you need it.”

“Okay!” Samuel cleared his throat and Blue paused again. “Oh, thank you!”

As Blue rushed into the kitchen, Delia and Samuel shared a look, a smile on both of their faces. “Please be careful, Blue,” Samuel called out. “Don’t break anything. You tend to have slippery fingers.”

“No, I don’t! That’s a lie!” Delia outright laughed, her teacup clanking on the table. “Gramps!”

Blue was quick to scurry back up the stairs, carefully holding two cups of juice as he rushed to get back to whatever game him and Red were invested in. “That boy…” Samuel sighed into his cup of tea, and Delia couldn’t help but smile. “He needs to be more careful.”

“Well, he’s just a child.” She swirled her spoon slowly, watching the dark tea spin. “They’re supposed to be reckless. It’s basically his job, right now: to be a kid, wreaking havoc on everyone.”

“Yes, well.” Samuel took a long sip of his green tea with two spoons of honey before looking back at Delia. “It wouldn’t hurt him to take it slow. Quite the opposite, in fact. It would certainly be easier on _me,_ not having to worry if he’s going to break a bone or sprain an ankle or _something_ every waking minute.”

Delia hummed as Blue yelled _aw, really?! No fair!_ A wistful smile crossed her face. “It’s just something a parent has to worry about, I suppose. Blue’s just…a bit more wild. But I’m glad he’s so expressive. It’s healthy, you know?”

Samuel mimicked her tense smile as Blue’s voice bounced down the staircase and into the small dining room, the tinny and childish voice ringing loudly. “…I suppose so.”

* * *

 

The local news was on when Blue let himself in the house, making himself known by shouting Red’s name. Delia glanced behind her, over the couch, to look at the small intruder. “Oh, alone today?” She smiled as Blue nodded.

“Yeah, Gramps is busy. He’s researching the gender distribution of Rattata on Route 1.” Blue yelled for Red again. “Is Red sleeping or something?”

“He hasn’t come downstairs yet, so I don’t know. Go on and check up on him.” Delia turned back to the news as Blue started to go up the stairs. He stopped on the second step, right after the squeak, and she glanced back over at him. “What is it, sweetie?”

“Does Red talk to you?”

Delia could only blink in response. That was an…odd question. “Why?”

“’Cause he talks to me, sometimes.” Blue leaned over the railing, dangling his arms. “I was just wonderin’, because he doesn’t talk at school, at all. But he talks to me, when we’re in his room. I dunno, just wondering.”

“What does he talk about?”

“Not much. School work. Pokémon. You know, usual stuff.” Blue shrugged. “He doesn’t say much, and it’s kinda hard to understand. He stutters a lot. But if he’s slow enough, I can figure it out. But he tries to talk fast, most of the time.”

Delia smiled. “Like you?”

Blue’s face flushed. “…yeah. I guess. I dunno.”

“He likes you.” Delia giggled as Blue covered his face with his hands. “I can tell. He always gets happy when he hears you’re coming by. The happiest I’ve ever seen him, anyways. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I guess.” Blue’s voice was quiet. “I mean, he’s my friend, I think, so it’s good he likes me, I think. Right? I mean, I like him.”

A sudden knock on the wall and they both jolt to look up the stairs. Red peered around the corner of the staircase, a confused look on his face. He glanced between Blue and Delia a few times, before narrowing his eyes at Delia with suspicion. “Good morning, honey!”

“What, were you sleeping or something? Jeez, do you _know_ what time it is?” Delia watched as Blue started climbing the stairs again, any evidence of the previous conversation completely gone. “I was yelling and everything! Are you deaf, now?”

Red shook his head violently and grabbed Blue’s arm as soon as he reached the landing, yanking him into his room and closing the door loudly.

* * *

 

“He really is a sweetheart.” Delia whispers into her cup of tea, right after Blue dragged Red out the door to go fishing. “He’s just a little wild.”

“I’m well aware, Delia.” Samuel watches the door with a wary eye. “He’s a lot like what his father was like. I just hope _he_ settles down and doesn’t drop all contact for years on end and leave his wife and children.”

Delia hums. “What happened to his mother?”

“If only I knew.” Samuel glances at his watch. “Ah. I’m supposed to be giving a tour to some grad students in about an hour. I nearly forgot.”

Another long, shared silence between them as they sipped from their teas, the cups clinking on the table simultaneously. “Have you spoke to him about it? About slowing down?”

“I’ve…been meaning to. Just never have the time, whenever I think about it.”

“Maybe you ought to make a little bit of time.” Delia can feel Samuel watching her, and she keeps her eyes averted to her tea, watching the soft ripples in the drink. “If his life depends on it, which it sounds like it does. At least a little. You know? He’ll understand.”

“Well.”

“He will. And you know he will. He’s a smart boy.” Delia gives a small smile. “You know he is. Otherwise, you wouldn’t teach him all about your research.”

“Ah, well—”

“He’s only what, seven? And _understands_ the work you do, and the language you use for it. It’s amazing.” She finally looks up at Samuel, catching him looking bashful. “Acknowledge that his mind is way too big for his body. He deserves it.”

Samuel falls completely silent. He slowly stirs his tea, a solemn look on his face. “…do you ever have those kinds of conversations with Red?”

“Well, no, not really. But he…” She glances out the window, seeing Red’s cap and Blue’s ginger hair way out by the lake, right next to each other. “Red’s different. He’s not…social. Quiet. Self-conscious. Cautious. The only thing I was worried about was him not making friends, and look at him now.”

Samuel hums.

They sit in silence for the next thirty minutes, until Samuel has to leave to go back to the lab. Delia’s tea has long gone cold by the time Red and Blue come back in the house, Blue whining about how unfair it is that Red was so good at getting the big Magikarp. Red just shrugs and nods along as they take off their boots and stick them by the door. “Oh, is Gramps gone?”

“He said he had to give a tour to some students.” Blue makes a noise of acknowledgement, nodding his head. “You know, you’re welcome to stay for dinner, if you would like.”

“Oh, well, I mean—” Blue stops when Red puts a hand on his arm, giving him a _look_. Blue gives a small smile. “Well, as long as it’s okay.”

* * *

 

The front door slams open. Delia jolts up from her seat at the kitchen table, nearly knocking her tea over. “What, dear? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? What--?”

Red zooms past her and bolts up the stairs, slamming his door with a resounding _bang!_

It’s quiet for a minute.

_Oh, dear._

She rushes up the stairs after him, careful to not trip over the end of her skirt, the soft _squeak_ of the second stair sounding like a gunshot. She stops before his door. Listens. Takes a small breath. As she raises up her hand to knock, the door opens. Red blinks hard, tears dripping from his face.

Oh. _Dear_.

Delia is slow to raise her hand back up, careful in reaching out towards her son’s face. He flinches when she gently brushes a fat tear away with her thumb, over the puffy red cheek, under the bloodshot eyes. Never, _never_ , has he ever cried like this. She can’t even recall when he last cried. She brings her other hand up to his other cheek, catching a tear just as it leaves his eye. “…what happened?”

Red’s mouth works, tightens and loosens, the way it always did right before he says anything. He opens his mouth, and a loud hiccup shoots out. He jumps and leans out of her touch. Closes his eyes. His mouth works again. Then, slowly, “…Blue.”

“What happened with Blue? Is he okay?”

Red nods. “He…” He raises his hands, signing vaguely for _ripped_ and _broke_ and _stop_.

“He broke something?”

A _B_ against his lips, _broke_ , _friends_ , and a stab at his own chest with his pointer finger. _Blue broke off our friendship._ Another hiccup, and a fresh set of tears rolled out from his eyes. Delia’s heart hurt to see it, knowing he wouldn’t want her to touch him again. She clenched her fist.

“He did?” Said with as much disappointment as she could. She remembers yesterday, how Red came home dejected because Blue had _other friends over_ , but it was okay because they were going to hang out today. How he was excited to go fishing, almost forgetting his pole beside the door as he rushed out early. _What happened between last week and this morning?_ “What can I do?”

Red flung himself at her, tightly wrapping his arms around her middle. Tears pricked at her eyes.

Leave it to a ten-year-old bullying her son to get her a once-a-year hug.

* * *

 

Tea-time was near silent. Not that she could blame the tense atmosphere. Only yesterday did Red punch the hell out of Blue. (His knuckles were still bruised.) Samuel sits across from her, bags under his eyes. He hadn’t even touched his tea yet. Delia is on her third cup. Finally, he sighs.

“…I’m sorry.”

“What are _you_ apologizing for?” It sounds harsher than she intended. “Red hardly has any bruises.”

“It’s not—” He cuts himself off, sighs again, and takes his first sip of tea. “It’s not that.”

“You aren’t Blue, and he isn’t you.” She mimics Samuel, slowly taking a sip of her vanilla-chamomile-and-honey tea, lips pursing at the sweetness. Too much sugar in this cup. “He needs to apologize for his own actions. I told Red to. Apologize, I mean. But…” Another sip. “He’s shaken up. Understandably. I would be, too.”

It’s odd, with the ringing silence in the house rather than the loud shouts of Blue or thuds from them jumping around on the floor, on the bed, creaks of footsteps wandering around and looking for a book, a toy, anything. It’s almost louder, Delia feels. Samuel opens his mouth. She cuts him off.

“I hope you understand I’m not holding you responsible for his actions.” Samuel promptly closes his mouth. “It’s not your fault the poor boy is growing up without much parental guidance. However, it’s not an excuse.”

A soft _I’m aware_ is muttered as Delia takes another sip of tea. “ _However_.” They make eye contact. “ _He_ is your responsibility. And I understand it’s difficult, with your work, but…” Delia breaks it off. “You’ve done it before, you can do it again.”

“Yes, but in case you weren’t aware,” Samuel says, “he’s missing two very important figures in his life. One of which I raised.”

It wasn’t said in a snappish way, but it came across, and Delia didn’t miss it. _An attitude._ Her grip on her teacup tightens. “That doesn’t mean you can abandon responsibility.”

“I’m not.”

Silence rings again. A soft creak from upstairs jerks Delia’s attention away from the conversation and towards the staircase. Red peeks his head around the corner, eyes narrow and mouth tight. He slowly walks out, down the stairs, past the table, and into the kitchen. The refrigerator snaps open, and Delia brings her eyes back to Samuel. “…I want to believe he’s a sweet boy.”

Samuel says nothing.

“I just…” Her voice drops to a near whisper. “Don’t…understand.”

As Red walks back towards the stairs, he goes around her side of the table, and drops a note in her lap. He glances at her as he climbs, right after the second stair squeaks, and scurries back up faster than he came down.

“I wish his parents were around.” Samuel sighs. “I don’t know what they would do, but perhaps…it would be different. He would be different.”

That makes something snap inside of Delia’s stomach. “He doesn’t _need_ to be different!” She exclaims, making Samuel jump in his seat. “There’s _nothing_ wrong with him!”

“Delia—”

“What _needs_ to be done, is _you_ take more responsibility for what kind of person he becomes. That’s all that needs to be done, that’s all that _can_ be done. You continue to be absent, he continues to grow in the same direction.” Her throat tightens. “I wish his parents were here, too. Everyone deserves a mother and father. But you’re a parent, too.”

Samuel’s mouth tightens, the same way Blue’s does when he’s thinking deeply. His eyes watch carefully, examining, taking in every drop of information that got spat out at him. It was amazing how _similar_ the two were, Blue and his grandfather. _Children learn from what they’re exposed to_ , a line from an old parenting book she got back when she first learned she was even pregnant. _Parents are always role models, no matter what._

She opens Red’s note.

_Tell grandpa I still want a Pokémon._


End file.
